


so you're keith's bitch?

by lizamarri



Series: assholes in uniform [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: BACK AT IT AGAIN, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bottom Lance (Voltron), Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff and Smut, Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith is a Tease (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) is a Dork, Lance Loves Keith (Voltron), Lingerie, M/M, Sex, Sexting, Smut, Top Keith (Voltron), adam is awesome guys, lance is that bitch part 3, the long awaited 'meet keith's fam'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:49:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28241919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizamarri/pseuds/lizamarri
Summary: However he expected today to go, this... wasn't it.Lance will be the first to admit-- getting his wallet stolen sucks. Like,reallysucks. He's a broke college student, it's not exactly amazing that he's currently wallet-less.But things get a little better when he realizes it'sKeith'sprecinct that ends up taking his statement.
Relationships: Adam & Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Allura & Lance (Voltron), Allura/Romelle (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt
Series: assholes in uniform [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2054577
Comments: 28
Kudos: 210





	so you're keith's bitch?

**Author's Note:**

> back at it again fuckers
> 
> if you haven't read all of the series, go!!! read it now!!!
> 
> this is pretty close to explicit, just warning y'all. I cannot BELEIVE how much you guys have liked this series like??? my three am drunk writing??? making people happy??? *sobs* thank youuuuu.
> 
> alright, then, read on. I think you're all gonna like this one ;)

Sometimes, things simply don’t go your way.

Lance can cite a million times that’s happened. Why, just last week, he accidentally drank espresso shots instead of coffee and was up for two days straight. Accidents happen. Shit goes off the rails. 

But this?

This is a fucking _nightmare._

“Alright, you’re going to have to come with me,” the cop says. She has brilliantly silvery hair that floats in a cloud behind her and a stunning British accent. If Lance weren’t scared, chilled to the bone, and taken, he’d probably try to flirt with her. 

“Yup,” he mumbles. “That’s probably a good idea.”

The car ride to the precinct itself isn’t that bad. The cop-- he finds out her name is Allura-- lets him sit in the front seat, so at least he doesn’t feel like a criminal. But it’s a good a time as ever to call he mother, so now he’s having a conversation with her about how he was fucking _mugged._

But hey-- he could think of a million other less-pleasant ways to end up in a police car. This is probably as good as it gets. 

His pocket mourns the absence of his wallet. He’s honestly lucky— all that was in there was a few bucks and a Taco Bell coupon. Lance rubs the bridge of his nose. Even though this isn’t as bad as it could get, it’s still pretty freaking _bad._

He’s a college student. He’s broke as _fuck._ He can’t just afford a to lose money!

Allura hums something under her breath as she takes another turn. Lance’s fingers itch for something to do, something to fiddle with. 

But there’s nothing. So instead, he opens his dumb mouth. 

“Where did you get your concealer?” he blurts out. “It looks really good. Highlights your cheekbones without, uh, dimming anything.”

Allura gives him a hesitant side eye. A tiny smile starts to spread across her face. “Uh, yeah, I got it from this little natural place? Specializes in essential oils, that’s why it’s shiny.”

“Right,” Lance rambles. “That’s-- good. Sounds good.”

Allura purses her lips. “You don’t have to be nervous, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know that, lady, but I’m Cuban. The last place I want to be is in a police station.”

Allura stops for the stoplight. “Trust me, I know the feeling.”

Lance tilts his head, frowning. “Then why’d you become a cop?”

“Family business,” she shrugs. “My father put his life and soul into the job, and I wanted to do the same.” She switches gears. “Trust me, our precinct is nothing like the ones that end up getting in the news.”

Lance wrings his hands. “I’ll have to take your word for it,” he mumbles. 

Allura pulls over into a parking lot. She unlocks the doors; Lance clambers out of the car. “In here,” she says, jerking her chin towards a set of glass double doors. She walks him past a reception desk and into the elevator. “I’m going to take your statement, then you’re free to go,” Allura says while pressing the third floor button.

Lance presses his lips together awkwardly as the door opens. The floor they step out on is a fine line between calm and chaos, with people walking back and forth with papers and clipboards. Against the wall are holding cells… or at least he thinks? Brooklyn Nine-Nine only goes so far in helping him understand what the hell is going on here. 

Allura directs him to a desk which must her hers, he sits in it hesitantly. He’s halfway through giving a statement when someone storms through the doors of an office behind him.

“Allura,” says a young man. He’s not wearing a badge or packing a piece, and the hexagonal glasses perches on his nose certainly don’t give him a threatening aura. “Please lecture my idiot husband for me.”

Allura rubs the bridge of her nose. “Adam--”

“He wants to work over Christmas. _Christmas,_ ‘Lura. Not over Christmas Day, thank god, but Christmas Eve? Boxing day? Come on, we have _traditions._ Can you please tell him his work family fully supports him spending time with his _actual_ husband?”

Allura sighs. “Adam, I’m taking a statement here.”

“Allura,” Adam sighs. “I’m not blind.”

“...then why are you still here?”

“Because Takashi isn’t scared of you and I’m not either. “

Lance snorts. “Good thing one of us isn’t intimidated out of their mind.”

Adam blinks, then looks down and grins. “Oh, who's this!”

“He’s the victim of a mugging, not a new recruit.”

Lance grimaces. “Not going to lie, I’d probably die before I became a cop. No offense.”

Adam wrinkles his nose. “Yeah, I get it. I was a little hesitant to date this idiot because of that, but his charm was just too--”

“ADAM!!!” Someone yells. “ADAM, GET BACK HERE!”

Adam closes his eyes and sighs. “See? Charm.” He stands back up and yells, “You are _not_ working over Christmas!”

“It’s not Christmas, it’s the days _around_ Christmas!”

“Nope!” Adam yells back, waving his hands in an X. “Cancelled, revoked, denied! Fucking denied!”

Allura smacks him on the arm. “No cursing in the workplace.”

“It’s not _my_ workplace.”

“It’s your husband’s workplace!”

“Two things, ‘Lura. He’s a traitor husband and he’s also your captain.”

The door to the office opens, and a man with unnaturally white hair steps out. He’s dressed almost like an airline pilot, and he stares exhaustedly at Adam. “Babe--”

“Seriously,” Adam says, a sad look on his face. He walks forward a little. “Come on, ‘Kashi, I want to spend Christmas with you. Not just the day, the whole _week.”_

“Oooh,” Lance whispers. “He pulled out the emotional shit.”

Allura looks him up and down. “I like you,” she declares, after a few seconds of deliberation. 

Lance sweeps a bow as best as he can sitting down. “Thanks.”

Takashi apparently realizes that they’re in the middle of a crowded bullpen, and takes Adam’s hand and drags him into his office. They keep talking through the whole thing, something about vacation days and requirements.

“My girlfriend is a sucker for their romance,” Allura whispers. “We were there for the wedding-- she cried _so much._ She makes me tell her everything that happens here, and she’s going to sob when she hears this.”

“Need me to take notes?”

Allura grins and rolls her eyes playfully, turning back to the form that’s halfway filled out.

“Damn, take a look,” Lance says with a nod. Through the windows of Takashi’s office, you can clearly see him and Adam locked in a rather stereotypical dramatic embrace.

“Is he… going to dip him?” Lance asks, his eyebrows furrowing. 

Allura shakes her head with a little laugh. “Not on purpose, I suppose.”

“What’s going on now?”

That voice is familiar-- achingly familiar. Lance knows who it is before he even catches a glimpse, his brain just won’t compute. 

“Keith!” Lance jumps up and launches into Keith’s arms, who catches him on instinct. Keith’s arms wrap around his waist, and suddenly, Lance is completely fine with getting dipped if it means Keith’s arms on his waist forever.

“Lance, oh my god,” Keith laughs. “What are you doing here?”

Allura watches the whole interaction with bugged eyes and a confused look. 

Lance shrugs embarrassedly. “I... maybe got mugged?”

Keith groans, and drops his face into his hands. “Goddamnit, Lance.”

“What! It’s not _my_ fault.”

“I’m sorry,” Allura interrupts. “What’s going on here?”

Lance freezes. “This is… my boyfriend?”

Allura blinks. She blinks one more time, bright blue-green eyes wide and anything but glassy. And then, she explodes. 

“YOUR WHAT NOW?!?!”

Keith smacks his hands over his face again, shaking his head. “Allura--”

“You mean to tell me, that after _years_ of trying to set you up with hot guys--”

“Allura.”

“--you go for _him?”_

“Oy!” Lance calls out. “I’ll have you know I’m a goddamn snack--”

“Where did you even find him?”

Both Keith and Lance fall silent. 

Allura steeples her hands, resting her chin on them. “Keith.”

“...yes?”

“Kindly tell me how you met this man?”

Keith’s pale face goes pink. He bites his lip and looks anywhere but Allura.

She turns to him. “Lance? Anything you’d like to share?”

“Ok, so it was Halloween night--”

“Jesus Christ, you’re not really going to--?”

“Shut up, Keith,” Lance says with a wave of his hand. “So, it was Halloween night, and my curfew was over, like, half an hour ago. Cool your jets, I’m in college, I’m just still living with the family for the first semester until a dorm opens up.”

Allura rubs the bridge of her nose. “Alright, but I don’t like where this story is going.”

Lance clicks his tongue. “I just gotta get to the good bit. So here I am, a hot piece of ass stranded out in the middle of mugging territory at the dead of Halloween night--”

“Yeah, you didn’t get mugged _then,_ how did you get mugged _now--”_

“Shut up, Keith,” Lance scolds for the second time. “So, I’m freaking out, and while on the line with my friend, I come up with this brilliant idea to call the police to take me home, because none of my friends who can drive are available. And guess who arrives!”

Allura stares at him with a smirk. “Keith, I presume?”

“Yeah, this hot piece of ass,” Lance confirms with a gesture towards Keith, who is currently clothed in his gay jacket glory. “So, he sees me, and is like ‘oh my god, look at this hottie--”

“Ok, that _definitely_ did not happen.”

“No, you _totally_ thought I was hot!”

Keith blows his bangs out of his face. “Yeah, because you were wearing fishnets.”

Allura laughs so hard she has to grab a tissue and press it over her nose. “Oh god,” She gasps. “Lance, could you write this down so I can tell it to everyone I know?”

“I mean, sure--”

 _“No,”_ Keith insists. “Absolutely not.”

Allura’s still laughing. “F-fishnets?” She makes out between her giggles. “Wait, please don’t tell me--”

“I didn’t fuck him in the police car, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Keith smacks him across the chest. _“Lance!!”_

Allura laughs so hard she sneezes. “I’m sorry,” she gasps. “It’s just-- he was wearing fishnets, a-and he’s the one who fucked you!”

Keith’s face is bright red. His cheeks are actually the color of apples. Honestly, Lance thought that was something that only happened in cartoons. 

Lance grins, tilting his head. "Keith still managed to make me his bitch, in the end."

Allura chokes on her own laughter, wheezing with a hand clapped over her mouth. "Oh my god," she gasps. 

“Anyone want to tell me why Keith looks like a tomato?”

Keith digs his fingers in to his eyes. “Adam, _please_ go away. You don’t even work here.”

“But I do,” Takashi interjects. “Keith, did somebody hurt you?”

Jesus Christ, who is this guy? First of all, he’s jacked as _fuck._ Second of all, with the unnaturally white hair, airline pilot-esque uniform, and pretty husband, he looks like a gay messiah.

“I’m fine, Shiro,” Keith groans. “Just getting roasted to hell.”

“Wait,” Lance interrupts. “Shiro? The Shiro? Your boss-brother who was mad that you cursed at me on the phone?”

Silence. 

Everyone starts speaking at once.

“Keith, wait, was this the guy--”

“Oh my _god,_ Kogane--”

“Lance, shut up!”

“Was this the guy,” Shiro repeats. “that you drove home on Halloween night? What, are you friends or something?

Keith’s cheeks bloom redder. Lance bites the inside of his cheek to hold back an sly grin. There’s a moment of silence where no one responds to Shiro’s question. 

“Well?”

“They hooked up, actually,” Allura interjects, concentrating on paperwork and suddenly as serious as a judge. 

“Allura!” Keith gasps. 

Shiro’s eyes bug. “You did _what now_ to my little brother?”

Lance steps back, holding up his hands. “Whoa there tiger--”

“Shiro!” Keith sighs, exasperated. “Yes, I hooked up with--!” He seems to realize he’s practically yelling about his dirty laundry to the whole precinct. “Yes, I hooked up with him,” Keith hisses. “He’s my boyfriend now, so,” he makes shooing motions with his hands, “back off.”

“Besides,” Lance comments, flipping an imaginary lock of hair. “It’s not what I did to Keith, it’s what Keith did to _me.”_

Nobody speaks. Allura stops pretending to do paperwork and busts out an astonished grin. Adam’s eyes bug, Keith should be dying from the amount of heat in his cheeks, and Shiro just looks tired.

Adam waves his hands in an ‘I give up’ gesture. “Oh my god.”

“I like him,” Allura comments. 

“Hrrhgghgh,” Shiro groans, pressing a hand over his eyes. “I never want you to say anything like that again. You hear me? Otherwise... I guess I approve.”

Lance leans back in his seat and grins, tilting his chin. “Sir yes sir.” Shiro keeps a hand over his face as he walks away, Adam on his tail. 

“Ok, this is over,” Keith insists. “Allura… just get him out of here.”

Lance pouts. “God, babe, it’s like you don’t even love me.”

Keith stares back at him with stone cold eyes. “You are a menace.”

Lance turns to Allura. “He totally loves me.”

She has to hide her giggles with the clipboard of paperwork. 

After the mess that was… well, the majority of the last five minutes, Allura finishes up his report in under a quarter of an hour. During the calamity, he’d kind of forgotten why he was here in the first place. Allura informs him with a wince in her voice that there’s very little chance he’ll be getting his wallet back. 

“It’s fine,” he assures with a wave of his hand. “If I had a credit card in there, it’d be a bigger deal.”

“I meant what I said before,” Allura says, as she starts filing away the paperwork into the computer. “I like you. Keith likes you too. Even if he’s embarrassed out of his mind.”

Lance looks over and smiles. Keith’s cheeks are still tinged red. He taps his fingers on the fake wood of his desk, a smooth rolling motion that Lance’s eyes pick up hungrily. 

“Hey,” Allura says, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “Stop thirsting, we’re almost done.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be nice to people who don’t work with you?”

Allura rolls her eyes. “You’re Keith’s boyfriend. It’s basically in the handbook that we tease you.”

Lance sticks a hand into his pocket. His gaze settles on Keith, who’s typing away while squinting at the screen. “Does he always type like that?”

Allura looks up and turns her gaze. “Yep,” she says with a smile. 

“It’s adorable,” Lance comments. 

Allura taps one last thing into the computer and hits enter. “Alright,” she says. “That’s it, you’re free to go.”

Lance shoots her a grin, scooping his jacket over the end of the chair and shrugging it on. He winks at Keith as he leaves; the latter blushes horribly, and Lance feels his heart laugh a little. 

As he’s going down the elevator, his phone buzzes. It’s from Keith. 

_I can’t believe you just did that._

Lance scrunches up his nose, grinning while he taps out a reply. _what?_

 _You know,_ Keith responds. _Make a FUCKING INNUENDO in front of my brother._

 _have u seen his husband?_ Lance answers. _i think he can handle it._

 _Adam is awesome, yes, I know,_ Keith sends. _But I’m still gonna get you back for that._

Lance grins, stepping out of the elevator and starting to walk to the bus stop. _oh, are u?_

 _You bet,_ Keith shoots back.

 _i hope we’re on the same page here,_ Lance types out. _sex?_

 _Yes, dumbass,_ Keith’s response is short and succinct. _Of course I’m talking about sex. I’m not going to beat your ass in a dark alley._

A bus pulls up to the stop. The doors open with a hiss, and Lance waits for the few people who want to get off to do so before he walks up the sticky steps and takes a seat.

He opens up the text thread again. _there’s other things u could do to my ass that i’d find a lot more enjoyable ;)_

 _I am so dead if someone reads this over my shoulder,_ Keith’s text comes in with a little bloop. _And I get off at two._

Lance checks his watch. 1:12.

 _Guess I shouldn’t head home?_ He asks, a sly smile starting to spread across his face. 

_Definitely do not,_ Keith responds. _I’ll be home before 2:15._

 _oh, what shall i do while ur gone?_ Lance sends back, checking to his side to make sure no one’s reading his texts over his shoulder. Sexting on public transport is _not_ the way he wants to be known around this town. 

_Don’t get started without me,_ Keith warns.

Lance grins. _u aren’t here to stop me._

 _Lance,_ Keith shoots back. _I am at ~work~_

 _i’m gonna make this next 45 mins hell for u,_ Lance types out. _gonna make you run the second your shift’s over._

 _jesus mcfuckin chfirst,_ Keith sends back. 

Lance grins, biting his bottom lip. The typos send a little jolt of pride through his veins. _He’s_ doing that.

The bus rolls to his stop a block away from Keith’s apartment, he turns off his phone and tumbles out onto the street. He grabs the spare key from Keith’s mailbox in it’s little combo locked box (don’t ask, his boyfriend’s a maniac) and opens the door. 

_ooh,_ Lance texts. _typos. i must be special._

 _Shut up,_ Keith responds. _Shut up, shut all the way up, oh my god._

 _i haven't even said anything yet!_ Lance shoots back. _ur the one getting hot and bothered over nthn._

 _how would u?_ Lance sends after a minute or so of silence. 

Keith’s reply is short. _???_

Lance blushes. He realizes he’s still standing, and crashes onto the couch. _on my knees or on my back, cowboy?_

Radio silence. 

It’s just when Lance is worried he’s gone too far when a text from Keith sails in with a pleasant bloop. Two texts, three texts. _Fuck you,_ the first one reads.

Then the second: _Fuck you, oh my god, fuck you._

The third is the shortest. _Fuck,_ it reads. 

_that’s the plan, isn’t it?_ Lance shoots back. His eyes flick back up to the clock at the top of his phone. 1:21. Still a long forty minutes. 

Maybe he can entertain himself a little until then. 

_i haven’t been fucked in a long time,_ Lance texts. _bet i’d be pretty tight._

When he sees Keith’s response, he can’t help but laugh. 

_ADLSFDJRFLJ,_ it reads. _L A N C E._

 _what?_ He sends, the picture of innocence. _it’s not like i’m lying._

 _Fuck,_ Keith shoots back. _I have no idea how i’m gonna get through another half hour._

 _I could dig out the fishnets,_ Lance muses. _You liked those, right?_

 _Don’t make promises you can’t keep,_ Keith’s response is surprisingly clear minded. _I know they’re not here._

Lance presses his lips together to fight a smile, tilting his head. _i mean,,,, maybe they aren’t here, but i could make do with something else._

_...what?_

Lance can’t hold back his smile anymore. _i found ur sock drawer, babe. nice garters._

 _askdjfadsklfjdlaksj,_ Keith responds, within seconds. _lance,,,,, holy fuck_

 _oh, babe, i love it when u drop grammar for me,_ Lance jokes. 

_Shut up._ It’s like he can _hear_ Keith's grumble.

 _really tho,_ Lance shoots back. _how would you like to fuck me in garters?_

There’s a good three minutes of silence.

 _I’m leaving early,_ Keith’s text drops in. _shiro’s owed me a favor since high school and i’m cashing it now. gonna fuck the life out of you._

 _looking forward to it, cowboy,_ Lance responds.

He clicks his phone off and drops it on the couch. Lance grins to himself, and retreats from the living room. 

* * *

When Lance hears the front door slam, he doesn’t expect Keith to fucking _run for it._ Barely a second in the apartment, he’s pinning Lance to the bed. 

“Hey,” Lance murmurs. Keith growls and latches his lips onto Lance’s neck. 

“You’re insane,” Keith hisses into his neck. “An absolute _monster.”_

Lance snorts. “Yeah, a _sex_ monster.”

Keith pulls up for a second, his eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t say that.”

“Yeah, that was weird,” he agrees. Keith’s lips find Lance’s neck once more; Lance leans his head back and lets himself enjoy it. “Fuck,” he whispers. Keith’s hips start to grind down on his boxer-clad ones. “Mmm, baby--”

“You look so good.” Keith’s voice is scratchy and low, the timber of it causing Lance’s spine to quiver. “So good for me, Lance.” His hand runs over the sheer material of the garters, playing with the tops of the stockings with sly fingers. Keith’s tongue descends below his collarbone, marking and kissing his way down Lance’s chest. Keith takes a break for a second to rip his shirt off his chest, letting it fall unheeded before he resumes his work. 

“God, I’m gonna wreck you,” Keith murmurs, tongue flicking over Lance nipple; he has to lock all his joints to not shake like he’s getting electrocuted.

“Keith,” Lance squeaks. “C’mon, babe, I--”

Keith tilts his head, white teeth biting down on his pale, pink bottom lip. He reaches to his own waist and pulls open his belt buckle, shucking off his pants and shoes in one smooth movement. Then, Keith hooks a finger around Lance’s underwear and starts to pull. 

Lance has to grab the pillow behind his head. His nails dig into it as Keith curls an appreciative hand around his hip. 

“Get on with it,” Lance chokes. “Keith--”

“You practically tortured me with those texts,” Keith responds, his voice slow and _ridiculously_ sexy. What the fuck? “I’ve decided, by the way,” he continues. “I’ll fuck you on your back, ‘cause then I can see your face the whole time.”

“Oh god,” Lance groans. “You kinky fucking _bastard--”_

Keith crawls between his legs, sliding his thighs beneath Lance’s and guiding the latter’s legs to hook around his waist. His bare thighs are warm against Lance’s, and the skin on skin contact is fucking _delicious._

Not gonna lie, he’s kind of proud of himself. _He_ did this to Keith. He’s responsible for that possessive glint in Keith’s eyes, for the dirty words flowing from his mouth. It’s Lance that’s doing it, his body and his lips and the way that _he_ moves. In an odd, opposite way… he’s the one in control.

He arches his back, pushing his hips and stomach into Keith’s chest, and the latter growls. _“Lance,”_ he hisses, biting down on a strip of skin right below his jaw. Lance can’t restrain the unbidden moan that slips out of his mouth. 

In revenge, he rubs his stocking clad leg against the side of Keith’s thigh. “C’mon,” Lance gasps. “We both know you want it fast.” He rolls his hips invitingly. “So let’s go fast, cowboy.” He loops his hands in the elastic of Keith’s underwear and tugs them down. 

He waits for Keith to go all in. He waits for Keith to grab his hips and drag him down the mattress and do everything he’s been secretly thirsting for for _weeks--_

But he’s left with almost nothing as Keith bites into the bone of his hip. 

“Kee _iithh,”_ Lance groans. “Babe, c’mon, I’m kind of dying over here-- _ohhhhhh, okay.”_

Keith’s tongue dips into him with a dexterity unknown but expected. Keith’s tongue is dirty as fuck, and he’s personally proud to be this closely acquainted with it. 

“Fuck!” Lance gasps and Keith hits a particular spot. Lance weaves his hand into Keith’s wild locks. “Fucking _hell,_ Keith.”

There, between his garter-clad legs, with his mouth on Lance’s ass, Keith looks like some kind of deceiving angel. Fallen from grace to the spot between Lance’s legs. 

Keith stretches his tongue farther, _wider,_ almost methodically, and Lance frowns. “Keith.”

Keith tilts his head but doesn’t pause in his… activities. The stance of his eyebrows asks, _what?_

“Stretch me out with some lube, you fucking animal,” Lance gasps, the wild heat of Keith’s tongue not to be contested with.

Keith finally comes up for air, saliva smeared over his chin. He wipes it off with the back of his hand, and dear god, Lance is going to go to hell for what he wants to do to this man. 

What he wants this man to do to _him._

Lance bends his knees, biting his lip and baring his legs. “C’mon,” he gasps. “You want it? Come get it.”

Keith… well, he _gets_ it all right. 

He fucking _crawls._

Slowly, sinfully, over Lance’s chest, his hands finding a final resting spot on either side of his head while his knees slide back underneath his thighs. “Tell me what you want, Lance,” Keith whispers into his ear. His breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of Lance’s neck. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” Lance chokes out. “You-- come on, Keith, you already know--”

“I want to hear you say it.”

For a second, Lance can’t breathe. “Kinky fucking _bastard,”_ he chokes out when he can. “Keith, c’mon, just--”

“Just what?”

Lance arches his head against the pillow, the weight of Keith on top of him burning into his skin. “You know,” he gasps, not so willing to give up his pride. 

“Say it, Lance.” Keith punctuates this with a roll of his bare hips to the crux of Lance legs, and it feels so good his _spine_ shakes.

“Fuck!” Lance cries. His mouth falls open, and nothing comes out. He heaves in a few breaths, desperately trying to maintain some self respect.

Keith, the absolute _bastard,_ doesn’t seem to care. He rolls his hips with a steady rhythm, the contact delicious and oh-so blinding. Lance makes a noise that echoes embarrassingly in his ears, and finally, _finally_ breaks. 

“Please,” he gasps. “Please, Keith, fuck me, _fuck me,_ I know you wanna.”

Keith grins, a canine puncturing down on his bottom lip. “That wasn’t so hard, huh?” he whispers as his hand snakes away in search of lube. 

“You kinky fucker,” Lance chokes. 

“Yep. Pretty much nailed it.”

Now that they’re onto the main course, Lance won’t deny it, he’s pretty fucking excited. He rolls his hips in exhilaration, causing Keith to hiss in surprise and arousal. “Why don’t you nail _me?”_

Keith looks like he wants to hide his face in his hands. “God, that was horrible,” he mumbles, flipping the catch on the bottle and pouring some on his fingers. He closes it off and throws it to the side. 

Lance couldn’t care _less_ what happens to that thing. Right now, all he wants are Keith’s fingers inside him, thank you very much. 

Keith’s fingers skid down his stomach, his hips, along the crux of his legs before dipping into him slowly, carefully.

“You can do more,” Lance gasps, rocking into the contact. “C’mon, baby, gimme.”

“Jesus _fuck,”_ Keith curses. His fingers jolt in a little farther; a tiny sound escapes through Lance’s teeth. 

“You’re so _tight,”_ Keith hisses. “And hot, Lance, _fuck.”_

Lance digs his heels into the mattress and uses the momentum to fuck himself on Keith’s fingers, arching his neck at the electric burst of pleasure. “More,” Lance chokes out. “Keith, anything you want-- I can take it. Please, c’mon.”

Keith’s mouth is open just half an inch or so as he practically stares Lance down. His fingers move in a slow, steady rhythm, then they jolt forward at his words. 

“You’re so pretty,” Keith murmurs. “You know that?” And then he plunges a second finger in next to the first, thrusting them both deep.

It’s like someone’s lit a _fire_ in his gut. Lance keens, his hips rocking ferociously into the contact, seeking friction and more of that beautiful, beautiful feeling. “Keith,” he gasps. “More, please.”

Keith obeys. He curls his fingers and pushes them in deep, scissoring and moving around and holy _fuck,_ Lance is going to die. He isn’t going to _live_ past this sex, and that doesn’t matter. 

Jesus Christ, if this is just Keith fingering him, what the hell is actually getting _fucked_ by him like?

Exhilaration floods his veins, because believe it or not, he’s _about to find out._

“I’m ready,” he chokes out, after a few minutes of _excruciatingly_ good friction from Keith’s fingers. “C’mon, baby, fuck me.”

“Patience,” Keith hisses. “Be good for me, yeah?”

The words along send a hailstorm of pleasure through his veins. Lance has to bite his lip so hard it stings to stop something from coming out. “Keith,” he gasps, finally. “Keith, _please--”_

“Not yet,” Keith whispers. He crooks his fingers, brushing along Lance’s prostate.

Lust and pleasure tear through him like a crackling fire, breaking his bones and busting his veins. “Keith!” Lance shrieks, his chest arching so much it looks like he belongs on the exorcist. “Fuck, oh fuck, _more.”_

Keith drinks him in with hungry eyes and fierce movements. He yanks his fingers out of Lance’s ass, wiping them absentmindedly on the sheets before grabbing a condom and yanking it over himself. 

“Oh thank god,” Lance groans. His limbs are trembling, at this point, sliding and flopping all over the place. There’s a thin sheen of sweat shining over his chest, and when Keith finally slides his legs back underneath Lance’s, he’s about to faint with just the overwhelming feeling of _finally._

“Let’s go,” Lance cheers weakly, and Keith presses in. “That’s-- _oh, fuck.”_

All the while, Keith releases a drawn out hiss. When he finally bottoms out, he drops his head on Lance’s chest. “Shit,” Keith groans. “You’re so _tight.”_

Lance’s hands scrabble uselessly at Keith's chest. “You feel so good,” he chokes out, desperate to make Keith feel as single minded as he feels. “So good, Keith, _god,_ fuck me.”

Keith jerks his hips. 

He doesn’t even pull out-- just rams them forward.

Lance didn’t expect it. If he’d expected it, maybe he would have made a sound that’s a little less embarrassing. But nope, he has no such luck. 

He _screams._

His fingers dig so deep into the sheets he’s probably leaving marks as a tsunami of pleasure and fire lick their way up his pelvis. Keith lets out an intelligible string of expletives, keeping his hips firmly stationary. 

“Lance,” Keith gasps. “You-- you just--”

“Fuck me,” Lance begs, his hips twitching with the effort it takes to hold them still. He rubs the sheer material of the garters against Keith’s hips. “Keith, _please,_ I need you _so bad--”_

Keith drags his hips back out; Lance lets out an unintelligible noise that’s somewhere between a groan and a sigh of relief. 

Then Keith rams his hips back in. 

And holy mother of _fuck._

“KEITH!” Lance shrieks, too turned on to be embarrassed anymore. He arches his neck so hard it _hurts._ “God, Keith, yes!”

Keith curses into the crook of his shoulder, rocking his hips forward again with absolutely no forgiveness. “Lance,” he hisses. “You feel so fucking _good--”_

“Ngghh, Keith,” Lance moans. He’s so blissed out, so _fucked_ out already, he has no idea how long he’s going to last. It feels like he’s on some kind of astral plane, like an out of body experience. _That’s_ how good it feels. 

Jesus _fuck,_ how come they’ve never done this before?

Keith sets up a steady rhythm. With every thrust of his hips, with every single _second_ that they touch, Lance is one inch closer to catching fire. He has no idea what he’s even saying anymore, garbled phrases and words that make no sense spill from his mouth like a never-ending cornucopia. But he’s so blissed out, he doesn’t _care._

“God, you look so pretty like this,” Keith gasps. “Getting fucked by me. You and your stupid shoulders and- _shit-_ your stupid tiny waist.” He starts thrusting his hips faster, and sure enough, the bed starts to hit the wall. 

Maybe that will be their always. 

“Please,” Lance begs. “Harder, Keith, fuck me harder, _please!”_

“Shit,” Keith groans, his hands gripping tight on Lance’s hips, so tight they might bruise. Lance won’t deny it, through his lust-wrecked brain, the sound of bruises shaped like Keith’s hands on his hips sounds hot as _fuck._

Keith grits his teeth and thrusts harder. “God, you’re such a _whore,”_ he gasps at the moan he draws out of Lance’s mouth.

“Yeah,” Lance whines. “For _you.”_

Keith groans and speeds up the pace. Lance cries out, falling backwards and letting his body move the way Keith pushes it. “Keith,” he gasps. “Keith, Keith, Keith, oh fuck _,_ more, _please,_ gimme more!”

“Shit,” Keith groans. He digs his knees into the mattress and speeds up even _more._

At this point, Lance can’t take it. His fingers are carving over every inch of Keith’s skin, guiding his hips, latching around his waist, going back to dig his fingernails into the sheets-- he can’t take it anymore. “‘M gonna--” he gasps, cutting himself off. _“Keith!”_ Lance cries. “I’m-- I can’t--” His limbs are a bunch of overactive spaghetti, he can’t control his body, he can’t control his mouth as it spews out sounds, gasps and cries that sound so _dirty,_ but he doesn’t have the effort to be ashamed. 

“I can’t--” Lance repeats. “Keith, I’m gonna--”

 _“Yes,”_ Keith hisses. He jerks his hips forwards sharply, deliciously. “Do it, Lance, _come for me.”_

Those words are all it takes. 

His body shudders through the high, his hands tugging on the sheets without permission as he’s coaxed through the best orgasm of his _life._

Fireworks and new years skies fill his vision, popping and crackling and exploding with a million different lights in a million different colors, pleasure nerves are sparking all over his body, he can’t talk, he can’t _move,_ all he can do is hold on and try not to fall off--

With one final call of Keith’s name, he can’t take it anymore. He lets go. 

Keith fucks him through it-- shaking and cursing himself. Lance grabs his hips and brings him to a stop once he’s done, trembling hands tracing over his sweaty form. Keith moans so loud when he finishes that the tiny, tiny functioning portion of his brain left worries about noise complaints. 

Keith barely manages to pull out of him before he collapses. 

For a minute, they just lay there.

It’s actually more like five minutes. Keith is the first one to speak. 

“Oh my god,” he whispers. 

Lance’s brain is completely blank, except for one thing. “You kinky _bastard,”_ he laughs, laying his sweaty head on Keith’s shoulder. “God, I’m so mad at you but--” he stops to take a breath. “I’m also so _not.”_

“Oh my _god,”_ Keith repeats. “That-- that happened, right? It wasn’t some crazy dream, I really _hope_ it wasn’t some crazy dream, because oh my _god.”_

“I can’t believe we didn’t start off with that,” Lance breathes. “Is that-- is that what it feels like when I fuck you?”

“Like the world is exploding?” Keith contemplates. “I mean… yeah.”

“Shit,” Lance gasps. “I had no idea how _good_ that could be.” He entwines his sweaty hand with Keith’s. “Still, I stand by my statement that you’re kinky as _fuck.”_

“Hypocritical.”

Lance frowns playfully. “Bitch, you’re _totally_ the kinky one here. 

“Oh really?” Keith exclaims “What about ‘Keith, fuck me harder!’ Huh?” He actually does a passable imitation of Lance’s voice.

Lance winces, and hides his face in Keith’s shoulder. “Did I really sound like that?”

Keith grins. “Trust me, it was hot.” Then he leans close, voice lowering down to a whisper. His breath ghosts over Lance’s nose. “I had no idea you liked being called a whore.”

Lance’s mouth drops open half an inch. The fires in his stomach start to churn again. “Nope,” he flat out states. “I am _way_ too tired to get into this again. Sorry, babe, you can call me a whore when my ass isn’t burning.”

Keith’s face goes red, and he hides beneath the sheets. “I certainly remember you asking for that.”

“This ass is out of commission for five days,” Lance declares. “Minimum. I’m probably not even going to be able to sit, you fucking monster.”

“Let me reiterate-- you asked for it. Very profusely.” Keith rolls out of bed, grabbing a washcloth from the bathroom and throwing in Lance’s direction. He cleans himself up, all the while shamelessly ogling his boyfriend’s absolutely _outrageous_ body. 

Keith catches him staring and winks. “Can’t get enough?” he taunts. 

“You should be a model, or some shit,” Lance suggests. “Your abs are giving me a sudden urge to lick them.”

Keith frowns playfully. “I thought you were out of commission?”

“C’mere, gonna punch you.”

Keith laughs, and pulls on his boxers. Lance realizes vaguely that he’s still wearing garters. 

“I’ll admit, these things fit pretty well,” he marvels, staring at the sheer black. “Black may not be my color, but hot _damn.”_

“Yeah, we’re keeping those,” Keith confirms. “Hell, maybe _I’ll_ wear them.”

Lance snaps up. “Yes. Yes you will, and I’ll fuck you until you scream.”

Keith blinks. A sly grin creeps over his face, and his cheeks begin to heat up. “Looking forward to it.” He tosses something in Lance’s direction-- it’s a sweatshirt. 

Lance grins. Keith shrugs, stifling a smile of his own. “Thought you’d look cute,” Keith shrugs. “I’m making lunch, you want to hang around?”

“Sure,” Lance says, not bothering to take off the garters and instead just pulling the hoodie over it all. The edge of the hoodie just hangs low enough to show off a strip of bronze skin before his underwear and the rest of the hoodie (unfortunately) cover it all up.

Keith won’t stop staring. 

Lance smiles daringly, stepping forward on tiptoes and grazing his teeth along Keith’s pulse point. “I think I’ll keep the sweater,” he murmurs. 

Keith’s Adam's apple bobbles as he swallows. “Good call.”

* * *

Lance is sitting at the kitchen counter when his phone rings. The profile picture is of a pigeon wearing an ugly christmas sweater. 

“Hello, Pidgeon,” Lance says as soon as he picks up his phone. Keith whips around, his eyes bugged. Lance winks.

There’s a little rustling over the line. “You sound a little too happy for someone who got mugged,” Pidge says. 

“I’m as happy as can be, Pidgey.”

He can practically see Pidge rolling her eyes. “And is this because you went home with a certain Detective Kogane?”

Across the kitchen, Keith drops his head into his hands.

“How did you happen to come across this information?” Lance muses, unable to hide the laughter in his voice. 

“I have my sources,” Pidge says. “Also known as Adam. We have a group chat.”

“Well, for your information,” Lance starts, “I’m currently wearing nothing but a sweatshirt, underwear, and a pair of garter stockings, so I’m feeling pretty fantastic.”

Keith mimes hitting himself in the head with a frying pan. Silence echoes across the line.

“Lance, I want you to never say anything like that again.”

He shrugs. “Hey, you asked.”

“I did _not_ ask for that. And tell Keith that if he ever tries to go against me, I’ll tell Shiro everything you just said.”

Keith’s face goes white.

“He can hear you,” Lance says slowly. “I think you just injected him with Pure Fear.”

“Good,” Pidge states. “Anyway, I just called to make sure you weren’t mourning the loss of whatever got stolen on your own, but you’re clearly neither mourning nor on your own, so I’m gonna go.”

Lance scrunches his face up into a smile. “Bye, Pigeon.”

“Bye, Lancelot.” Pidge hangs up with a little click. 

“You,” Keith says, after a few seconds of silence. “Are a _monster.”_

Lance grins and winks. “Pretty damn cute one though, right?”

Keith slinks over, dropping his elbows on the marble counter. “Pretty damn cute indeed,” he muses, pressing a kiss to Lance’s nose.

An acrid scent crosses Lance’s nose. “Keith!” he shrieks. “Something’s burning!”

Keith whips around. “Oh, fuck--”

Needless to say, they order takeout. 

**Author's Note:**

> whoohOOOOO. can you tell i kinda have a crush on allura? _can you tell?????_ ughh that woman is TOO PRETTY
> 
> next time in this series-- Keith helps Lance move into his dorm. Shenanigan's ensue, as you might assume.
> 
> come yell at me on tumblr @all-this-panic-still-no-disco and come to instagram for a trash can of my faves @liza_marri


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